


The Misadventures of the Junkship Enterprise

by FlareWarrior



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Crack, Drinking, Gen, M/M, Mentions of Slavery, accidental fluff, assuming Jim can focus enough to cause it real problems, but it's too late now, but more importantly Spock is in a towel, it was probably a bad idea to give them a ship, space, the federation is no more, the universe better start running
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-15 15:47:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4612374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlareWarrior/pseuds/FlareWarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim is a problem child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Once, Twice,

"What did you do."

It was the first thing McCoy said on walking in to Jim's quarters the next morning, and Jim thought it was completely uncalled for because he'd just been relaxing innocuously at his desk.

"It was an accident!" he exclaimed, offended.

"It always is, unless it goes perfect and then it was the plan all along. What. Did. You. Do."

McCoy had the uncanny ability to sniff it out whenever Jim did something a little outside of regulation. It was really unfair. At least he knew that was the only reason McCoy was asking - it wouldn't do to have rumors flying about him already.

"Why do I have to defend myself this early in the morning? And how do you know I even did anything you'd disapprove of at all? I'm a responsible starship captain I'll have you know."

His reply was somewhat ruined when the bathroom door opened to steam and Spock, his most recent stray.

"...damn it, Jim." McCoy muttered.

"It's not what it looks like."

"Master, is this someone I should follow as well?"

"God _damn it_ , Jim!"

"No Spock, this is a crotchety doctor who never lets me have any fun."

"If by fun," McCoy hissed "You mean getting hammered and lost on a planet that was liable to blow the Enterprise out of space and participating in a goddamn slave trade then you bet your ass I won't let you have any fun!"

"I was not that drunk." Jim protested "I can tell because he looks just as good this morning."

McCoy's glare took a layer of skin off Jim's body. Jim held up his hands.

"I didn't do anything! Look, he's Vulcan right? I figured he'd be like, useful or something."

"A wrench is useful, Jim! A Vulcan slave is - is-" McCoy made a vaguely jazzy motion with his hands and growled in rage "Damn it Jim, I'm a doctor not a babysitter! Stop being so spontaneous!"

"Seventeen" Jim said quietly.

"What?"

Jim put a hand on his chest theatrically "I thought you liked that about me baby!"

"Keptin'" Chekov cut in from the comm.

"Chekov!" Jim cried happily, feeling seconds from death "There's something I did right! Where would we be right now if I hadn't picked up Chekov from that nasty little planet with all the gangs and the monsters and stuff?"

"Probably up a few navigational officers. Kid's a terror and there's no way he got where he is so fast without using the devil's magic to kill people."

"Annnnnd down a lot of great finds!"

"....Keptin. Ve are ready for launch."

"Excellent! Take us where the wind blows, my friend."

"Zere iz no vind in space, keptin." Chekov said, and cut the line.

The room was silent. Spock dripped some.

"Spock, Dr. Leonard McCoy. Bones, Spock." Jim said.

"A pleasure, Doctor."

"I hate you Jim."

"Love you too Bones."

"Put some clothes on and come to sickbay. I don't know what kinds of death exist on that hellhole we're warping away from, but I'm not letting you give them to the crew."

McCoy stormed out of the room, managing to create the effect of slamming the door in his wake even though the door was completely automatic and he never touched it.

"I apologize" Spock said "was I offensive?"

Jim scoffed "That was McCoy's exasperated face. I think he liked you." he waggled his eyebrows "Who wouldn't."

Spock's eyebrows went up in response. "Would I be correct in assuming that you hail from a free society?"

"Bingo bango, Spock. Welcome aboard the USS Enterprise, my very own stolen and refurbished wreck from the golden age of the federation."

Spock looked at him.

"Then, if it is as you say, you intend for me to go free."

Jim shrugged "Yeah."

Spock nodded and let his towel drop. Jim's jaw went to the floor with it.

"I will require clothes."

"Uhhhhhhhh."

"If I am to assist on this vessel."

"Uhhhhhhhh."

"Which I would like to until such a time that I decide to leave, if it is agreeable."

Jim blinked. Spock didn't.

"You know I thought this would be harder. Where's all the tears and the falling into my arms under the stars after long and painful healing? Where's my tumblr fanfiction ending? I want like, three hundred notes. And bondage."

"I believe I was the one who endured the bondage, and I do not understand the logic of writing three hundred separate notifications."

They looked at each other. Jim gestured to the replicator.

"Have at it, Mr. Spock, and welcome aboard. You'll fit right in here."


	2. 300 Notes and Bondage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim is still a problem child and it's probably got something to do with the fact that he always gets his way.

The bridge’s view screen was taken up entirely by the girth of the bejeweled man on the battleship chasing them. Jim watched in morbid fascination as the man’s third boob jiggled while he vehemently declared himself superior.

“That green-blood on your bridge is my property. I want him back where he belongs, on his knees at my feet with his pretty little mouth-“

“Captain, I don’t know how but the phasers just armed themselves.” Sulu said blandly. Spock leaned over his comm screen to confirm that yes, the phasers were armed and no, they had not done it themselves.

“Is that right. Well, equipment malfunctions happen.” Jim sighed.

Spock looked back over his shoulder incredulously “I do not think-”

“Oh, look, torpedoes too.”

Jim waived one hand in a dismissive gesture “Damn those computers, Sulu. Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without.”

“Aye sir. Aaaaand they’re firing.”

“A shame. Welp, nothing to be done, plot a course around the debris Mr. Chekov.”

“Aye sir.” Chekov chirped.

Jim yawned in the light of the burning wreckage, listening as Uhura sang about chestnuts and settling in for a long ride.

“…Captain?” Spock’s voice had a terribly confused lilt to it, and Jim found himself smiling at the sound.  A befuddled Spock was an adorable Spock. But then all versions of Spock were pretty adorable.

“Yeah, First Officer?” Jim chimed merrily, turning his chair to face the science station as much as he could.

Spock was staring at him as if he was trying to mentally rearrange a Picasso painting into something that made sense. Then he said “Ship's sensors report no issues from the altercation” and abruptly turned back to his station.

Jim smiled the whole shift through.

 

There was a blip on his PADD screen at ship’s midnight, which he definitely didn’t see while drunk in engineering, and when he tapped it he found a single-sentence notice.

‘The torpedoes did not arm themselves.’

Scotty leaned over his shoulder to read it and made an exaggerated face of shock “What? Ya mean…the Enterprise is haunted?!”

Jim tumbled off the steps laughing and Scotty came with because he was a good friend, and eventually he discovered that the note was anonymous after hitting the PADD one too many times with his elbow.

“Someone’s as drunk as we are.” Scotty noted sagely.

“Chekov probably thinks he’s being informative.” Jim agreed.

 

But then it happened again.

‘29.665% of Doctor McCoy’s prescribed remedies consist of heavy drinking.’

“And aren’t we lucky. To the best doctor in the Milky Way!”

“Jim, get the hell out of my office.”

 

And again.

“Space harbors a surprising number of Greek-like civilizations and cats.”

“What?” Nyota laughed, and Jim thought for a second before nodding a bit.

“I mean, now that it’s brought up, what the hell? If I never see an ego in a toga again it’ll be too soon.”

It was that evening.

 

And  _again_.

‘Thank you.’

“You are welcome!” Jim announced to the mess hall, maybe a little theatrically.

He got off the table to sit back down beside Spock, who looked about as put-upon by Jim’s existence as he ever had.

“Captain, if you would like to make an announcement, might I suggest the intercom.”

“Oh, yeah, hang on, I’ll be right back.”

“Jim-“ Spock tried, but Jim was already gone.

  

“How many does that make?” Bones asked, less out of interest and more out of resignation.

“-and they’re all just random things like ‘Those guns on the planet were powered by photosynthesis’ and ‘Acid is not good for your skin please do not try to bathe in a toxic pool again’ and ‘Don’t think I don’t know you started the food fight in the mess hall’. Oh my _god_  I  _love_  them - this makes two hundred and ninety-seven.”

The PADD dinged “Two-hundred and ninety-eight!”

McCoy looked meaningfully at the middle distance.

“Lieutenant Sulu’s botany hobby may have gotten out of hand. Yeoman Rand has not been seen in several hours.” Jim read “Ha! See, awesome.”

McCoy did not look away from the middle distance.

Another ping “Yeoman Rand has been recovered. Sulu is at fault and should be considered a lost cause.”

McCoy snorted “That’ll last all of until Chekov hears of it.”

“Does he have a machete?” Jim wondered.

“No, but he’s got witchcraft. I’ll ready the burn supplies.”

Jim plopped down in McCoy’s chair the second he vacated it and put his feet on the desk “I’m telling you, whoever is sending these is getting, like, the second officer position.”

“That’s not a thing, Jim.”

“You’re just mad I’m taking it away from you.”

“Yes, I’m livid at losing my imaginary title in your one-ship Starfleet. Time for a coup.”

“Sounds like a party.” Jim grinned and jiggled in the chair when his PADD dinged again “Three in one day!”

“Reluctantly, I consider you my friend, Jim Kirk.”

“Awwww, that’s the nicest thing anyone in the crew has ever said to me!” Jim said, wiping fake tears from his eyes.

“Don’t we all.” McCoy muttered.

 

And then they stopped.

Jim went through all five stages of grief in approximately five minutes four times an hour: Whining, pouting, pranking, making rash decisions, and whatever the fifth one was.

On day three, when Jim was trying to wheedle Scotty into saying that yeah, maybe they could survive a spacewalk at warp, the crew finally caught a break.

In the form of their captain evaporating on the spot.

“Drama queen.” Uhura muttered, and started flipping through subspace channels, occasionally stopping on a good song.

“Of all the - God damn it, Jim!” McCoy swore and stalked off to the turbo lift “Spock, go get him. I’ll prepare sickbay.”

“I am not certain-“ the computer blipped helpfully “Chekov, I’m picking up a faint ion trail.”

“Plotting course, sir.”

“Thank you mister Chekov. Warp seven mister Sulu.”

“Aye sir.”

 

Jim came into awareness wrapped in gold and red silk.

“Whoa, I played my cards _right_.”

He gave a little tug to his wrists and found he moved precisely none.

“Well, at least it’s comfortable.”

Jim settled into the cushions with a happy smile on his face, blinking around at the room. It was mostly hidden by the shimmering gold canopy of the bed, but what he could see was ornate and ritzy. Definitely played his cards right.

After about an hour, just as he was starting to get bored, Spock sparkled into existence beside the bed.

“Spock! Best first officer ever. Hey, you wanna go get the master of the house for me? I do not want to let this go to waste.”

Spock stared down at him, even more unreadable than usual.

“What? You want to join?” Jim tilted his head back to expose the long line of his neck and shuttered his eyes “I’m all yours for the taking.”

Spock sighed - actually sighed, if Jim could move his hands he would have fist-pumped - and said “Jim, you are the most infuriating individual I have ever met.”

And then he leaned down and kissed him.

Jim’s brain short-circuited spectacularly as Spock settled next to him, his feet still on the floor and one hand braced beside Jim’s head, and kissed the ever-loving daylights out of him. Spock’s soft lips brushed his lightly until Jim gasped and surged upwards as much as he could, and then that inhumanly hot tongue explored every inch of his mouth, and his toes curled in the sheets as he was devoured.

When Spock finally pulled away Jim was pretty sure he could feel the planet spinning, and it was disconcertingly unsteady.

“Two to beam up.” Spock said, and in the next instant Jim was sitting on the transporter pad in nothing but a pretty red satin sheet.

Jim blinked at Scotty, then looked over at Spock, who had magically landed on his feet. Like a cat. Like a  _space_  cat.

Jim was maybe a little hysterical.

Spock looked entirely composed when he held out a hand to help Jim to his feet. Jim tried valiantly to hold the sheet up in a way that was more sexy and less damsel, but failed.

“Does that satisfy you?” he asked.

“What? No, Jesus  _Christ_  I’m never going to be satisfied now.  What the hell was that?”

Spock eyed him blandly “Bondage.”

“I’m out, you two have fun.” Scotty said as he beat a hasty retreat. The door made a suspicious clicking noise behind him, but Jim was too dumbfounded to care.

“Say that again, Spock, but with more - no, you know what, exactly the same way.”

Spock raised one eyebrow.

“Did I imagine it? I must have imagined it. Why would you say bondage, that’s just – that’s just too hot, I think the universe would break.”

“Clearly you have sustained a head injury, captain. I would have noticed sooner, but there is not much difference. If you would come with me to see Doctor McCoy-“

“God yes, booze sounds great right now.”

Spock looked very unimpressed.

“What? Haven’t you heard, something like thirty percent of his cures are alcohol-related.”

“Twenty-nine point six-six-five.”

“Exactly.”

Jim paused on his way to the door. Then he spun around and jabbed a finger into Spock’s chest. “Aha!!”

“Captain?”

“It was you!”

“I am not aware of what you are referring to.”

“All the messages, they were from you! You’re officially my second officer.” Jim nodded sagely.

Spock’s forehead creased “You are demoting me?”

“What? No, you’re still my first officer too.”

If Spock were human, Jim imagined he would have looked to the roof for strength. As it was he simply took Jim’s arm and started towards the door again.

“I can’t believe you were behind all those. Why’d you stop? You sent like three hundred and…then…”

Jim tripped on the edge of the sheet, and he was too busy laughing to catch himself so he ended up mostly leaning on Spock with the sheet in a puddle under his feet.

“You –ha! You took me seriously, oh my  _god_. This is gold, you are gold, I love you- Ha!”

Spock was disappointingly unaffected by Jim’s naked state “I fail to see what you find so amusing.”

Jim grinned wildly and straightened so they were eye to eye, just centimeters from each other “You have to send me more, I’m hooked. And that was enough bondage, now we should get hit by sex pollen or – or one of us should become a werewolf and go into heat! I’m going to make coffee. Do you like coffee? Will you be my third officer?”

Spock, very firmly, placed both hands on Jim’s shoulders and did nothing beyond that “Jim. You are hysterical. I will endeavor to send you a notification when I can. I do not understand your references. I do not like most coffee. It was my understanding that the purpose of first, second, and third officers was to set up a chain of command in case the others were lost, thus it would be counterproductive if I were to hold three of the positions.”

“ _Most_  coffee. I’ll be the best little barista you’ve ever had.”

“Jim.”

“Okay, okay, fine, I’m done. Let’s go see Bones and get hammered. Unless you want to do the hammering?”

“You are impossible.” Spock gave him a little push towards the door and Jim swayed back and brushed their lips together.

“I’m going, I’m going,” he said to Spock’s near-frown.

He was almost to the door when Spock’s voice stopped him.

“Jim.”

Jim spun around, eager grin in place “Yeah?”

“You are naked.”

“Oh. Nah, I just got these new threads, only the virtuous can see ‘em” Jim winked and there – the slightest hint of green stained Spock’s cheeks. Finally.

Jim sauntered out into the hall whistling.

 

‘You have been reported three times for indecent exposure. I suspect they are not serious, as one consisted only of the word ‘damn’ and the others were pictures of poorly-drawn frogs.’

Jim grinned and glanced over at the science station, where Spock was bent intently over his screens.

Outside, the stars zipped by as usual.

Jim enjoyed the view.

**Author's Note:**

> Just some fun that completely flies in the face of the norm, which I wrote after reading something really ooc. My apologies for adding to the pile.


End file.
